


baby, we're the new romantics

by brandonsaad (createadisaster)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Asexual Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2650304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/createadisaster/pseuds/brandonsaad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When PK meets Carey Price, it’s because he is crushing his dreams.</p>
<p>“Get off my bar,” he’s saying, totally unreasonably, just because PK is currently climbing up onto his bar.</p>
<p>(In which PK a) likes to kiss his favorite bartender and b) won't get off the bar.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, we're the new romantics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valmerteuil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valmerteuil/gifts).



> IT'S LAURA'S BIRTHDAY! this is important for many reasons. reason one: birthdays are incredible. reason two: laura is incredible. reason three: those first two are about as solid as youre gonna get i dont know what more you want from me here.
> 
> this is a fic about pk subban and carey price smooching! very important stuff. right here. that can be reason four that laura's birthday is important, because now another fic about pk subban and carey price exists, and like, lets be real, that shit's incredible too.
> 
> okay! enjoy! happy birthday laura i love you!!!!

When PK meets Carey Price, it’s because he is crushing his dreams.

“Get off my bar,” he’s saying, totally unreasonably, just because PK is currently climbing up onto his bar.

“Hear me out, man, hear me out, I’ll just be a second,” PK tells him, and stands up straight. “Everyone! Can I have your attention, hey!”

The music’s still loud, but people look at him, and PK beams.

“Thanks, guys! Okay, so! Who here likes kissing?” A cheer goes around the room, because in PK’s experience, queer bars tend to be full of people who do in fact like kissing, and PK just grins. “Yeah? Yeah! Alright, so, this world needs more kisses in it!”

“Get off my bar,” the bartender says. PK waves his hand down at him, cause he’s really just going to be another second, and the guy needs to chill. He’s trying to bring some good into the world.

“So! If you’re talking to a cute person, ask them if they wanna kiss, and then totally do if and only if they say yes. And if you’re _not_ talking to a cutie, but you wanna be, come talk to me! I wanna kiss everyone in this bar! Mostly the dudes, but all applicants welcome!”

There’s more cheering. PK loves his life.

“Get off my bar,” the bartender repeats.

“Listen, the people love me, just let this happen,” PK says. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Take your shirt off!” someone yells, and PK decides that he is no one to deny the wants of the people. He pulls his shirt off, drops it behind him, and flexes real quick. He’s a crowd-pleaser, what can he say?

“You dropped your t-shirt on me,” the bartender says. “Now get off my bar.”

PK grins down at him. “Kisses for everyone! I’ll start with the bartender! You in, babe?”

He looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “If you get off my bar.”

“Deal!” PK crows, and climbs down over the back end. The bartender’s _really_ tall and also like, really handsome, almost excessively handsome. Like, dude needs to tone it down a little bit, just for the sake of fairness. Who-does-he-think-he-is handsome. His hair is thick and dark and his lips are full and red, red enough that PK can tell even in the low lighting of the club. “Lay one on me.”

He smiles. “First things first. I’m Carey. Carey Price.”

“PK Subban, buddy, good to meet you!” He grins broadly. “I’m feelin’ pretty goal oriented tonight, though, I wanna kiss a _lot_ of people. You’re takin’ up some valuable time—”

Carey leans in and kisses him.

There’s stars. Fireworks. Elephant stampedes. Tectonic movement, probably. PK certainly feels a little unsteady on his feet.

Carey pulls back and PK says, “Wow.”

Carey grins and pats him on the shoulder. “Go do the kissing. And go out around the bar, not over, okay? You gotta stay off my bar.”

“I’m—you’re a really good kisser,” PK says. “Can we kiss again?”

“No,” he says, and grins. “I have to work. And you’re feeling goal oriented. You ready?”

“Hey, hey, I could count kisses, not people, let’s do this—” PK thinks the world is beginning and ending in those unfairly soft lips. Also the remarkably talented tongue.

“You already said people, _buddy_ , get to work,” he says, and gives PK a light push on the shoulder.

PK nods, a little bit dazed, and then climbs back over the bar. Carey makes a wounded noise behind him, but it’s time to get his head back in the game.

“Who wants to make out!” he yells, and sets off another round of cheering in the bar.

He gets forty-three kisses from thirty-eight people, and goes home happy.

-

It’s two weeks later that he goes back, and that same upsettingly tall, beautiful, firework-inducing tongue-wizard is behind the bar again.

Which is, quite frankly, _excellent_ , because PK is, as per usual, a man with a plan.

“Hello, gorgeous!” PK exclaims, leaning over the bar. “I need a Sex on the Beach and a kiss over the bar. Except not the Sex on the Beach, because that is not as good of a drink as one would hope, and also like, I did it for real once, and it’s just like, excessively sandy, it’s sandy everywhere, and it’s not really my thing anyway, and just—okay. The kiss over the bar is the focus here.”

Carey raises an eyebrow at him. “You said a lot of words just now.”

“I did, I did, I tend to ramble,” PK confesses. “Wanna make out in your place of work? It’s for charity!”

“I wouldn’t say charity,” Carey says. “You’re pretty handsome.”

PK preens. “ _Thank_ you, gorgeous, but I mean it, I’m doing this thing where for every kiss I get tonight, I donate ten dollars to this homeless shelter for queer kids I volunteer at. So, you know, you should kiss me. And donate if you want, too. I have a card—” He digs one out of his back pocket and hands it over.

“You’re serious,” he says, flipping the card over to read the back. “That’s… cool.”

“Wanna kiss?” PK asks with a grin. “You can say no, obviously. I also accept hugs, high fives, and words of support.”

“I saw, I read it on the card,” Carey says. “No, I—I definitely want to kiss you.”

“Yeah?” PK asks, grinning. He leans over the bar a little, props himself up on his elbows. “You do?”

“Well, if it’s for a good cause,” he says, tossing him a sly smile.

“I’ll take it,” PK beams. “I’ll mark you down as the first of the night.”

“Wait, wait,” Carey says hurriedly, “You’re not allowed to stand on my bar again.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, buddy, I won’t stand on your bar,” PK promises. 

Carey nods, looking appeased, and leans over to kiss him again. He brings one hand up to curl around PK’s neck, gets a grip on his shirt collar with the other, and runs his tongue along PK’s bottom lip. He kisses him, keeps kissing him, holds onto him tight.

PK whimpers. He’s not proud.

When Carey finally pulls back, he smooths down PK’s collar and smiles politely like he didn’t totally just ruin PK’s life.

“—to donate,” he’s saying.

“What?” PK gets pulled back to earth somewhat abruptly. “I’m sorry, sorry, I missed that.”

“I asked where I could donate,” he says. 

“Oh, oh—on the website,” PK says, still a little distracted. “There’s a link, on the card. And, uh, I’m giving $20 for that one. You’re—wow.”

Carey chuckles. “I get that a lot. You still want a drink?”

“Think I need, like, a shot of tequila after that,” he says, sitting down on a stool. “Or maybe a cigarette.”

“This is a no-smoking bar, and I refuse to serve tequila before 10 pm,” Carey tells him. “Nothing good comes of that.”

PK pauses. “That’s reasonable. Tell me about your IPAs.”

(About two hours later, PK stands up on the bar. “I wanna kiss everyone in this club!” he shouts, and then, when Carey hisses at him to get down, reminds him that he’s doing this for the _children_ , Carey, gosh, you gotta show some concern for these kids, and then Carey gets all defensive about how he wants what’s best for these youths too, he wants to help, and he’s gonna kiss PK again to prove it, and declares it’ll be a _fifty_ dollar kiss, and then, to PK’s absolute shock, it _totally is._ )

\- 

“I refuse to believe that you kiss strangers in this establishment on a regular basis,” Brandon says, peering around the space. “Who wants to kiss _you_?”

“Okay, first of all, _rude_ ,” PK says, and shoves Prusty’s shoulder a bit. “Everybody. I’ve got mad game, I dress super well, and my bod is rockin’. Everybody wants to kiss me. You want to kiss me, probably—”

“Are you going to get to a second of all?” Brandon interrupts, because Brandon is terrible.

“Second,” he says pointedly, “I do kiss strangers on a regular basis, and can, and almost definitely _will_ , tonight.”

“Bullshit,” Brandon declares. “Prove it.”

“Try me!” PK exclaims.

“Fine,” he says, then does a quick survey of the room. “How about…. the bartender. The scary frowny one. He refused to sell me tequila. I was like, this is my money, and you are a bartender, and you should exchange alcohol for dollars, and he told me to order something else or go sit down.”

PK can barely keep the smile off his face. “I mean… that doesn’t seem fair, he sounds like a pretty tough nut to crack.”

“So you’re saying you can’t do it,” Brandon says, sounding smug.

PK stands up from their table. “I never turn down a challenge. Watch me.” Once his back is to Prusty as he’s walking to the bar, he can’t stop himself from grinning, and he leans over the bar and gives Carey his biggest smile.

“Are you going to climb on my bar again?” Carey asks, sounding wary. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

“You know, that’s probably for the best, I have lied before,” PK admits. “But I’m not standing on the bar tonight, promise. I just want to kiss you.”

“For charity again?” Carey grins.

“My friend bet me I couldn’t,” he answers with a laugh. “He doesn’t have any faith in my charm or game, both of which are incredibly extensive. Plus, he thinks you’re a tough target. He said you were mean to him about tequila.”

Carey makes a face. “I don’t like tequila.”

“Do you like me?” PK asks, and watches a startled little smile spread over Carey’s face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I do.”

“Wanna kiss me?” he asks, leaning over a little.

“Yeah,” he says, smile getting bigger. “I do.”

PK kisses him first this time, leans over a little further to close the distance between them. It’s a little softer than he was expecting, and then Carey reaches for him, tugs him closer still.

When he lets go and then ducks under the bar, PK falls forward a little bit trying to follow. “What are you doing?” he asks, trying not to sound too woeful that they’re not kissing anymore (but, like, really, what’s up with that).

“I’m getting your friend some tequila,” Carey says with a grin. “Tell him it’s a thank you for sending you over here.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” PK says, wide eyed.

“I get that a lot,” Carey shrugs, and hands him a shot. “Let me get you some salt and a lime, okay?”

-

Ace Night is PK’s absolute favorite night. Usually, when he goes to gay bars and kisses people, he awkwardly has to explain that he actually doesn’t really do anything more than kissing as a casual thing, and usually people are cool but even the cool ones wander off to find someone they can take home and fuck, and PK doesn’t even like to think about the uncool ones.

But on Ace Night, everyone is cool, and it’s PK’s favorite night of the month. Sometimes, he gets to take people home, make out with them, and then snuggle until they both fall asleep. It’s actually the best.

He’s never seen Carey work on Ace Night before, and he’s thrilled when he walks up to the bar. “Heya, handsome,” he says with a grin. “Whatcha got for me today?”

Carey… doesn’t look as happy to see him as the last couple times. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, this is kind of my favorite bar,” he says, tilts his head. “And you usually give me my favorite drinks. What’s on tap?”

“It’s Ace Night,” Carey says.

“Yeah,” PK says, beaming. “It’s the best.”

Carey pauses. “Ace Night is the best?”

“Yeah!” PK exclaims. 

“Why is Ace Night the best?” he asks, like he genuinely doesn’t understand. PK isn’t sure he can truly convey the magic that is one night stand cuddling to someone who doesn’t already see the appeal.

“I mean, it just?” PK’s actually a little lost for words. “I’m ace, so. It’s cool.”

Cary pauses. “You—oh. Really?”

“I mean, yeah,” PK says, a little blankly.

“I just—assumed—” Carey begins, and then falters. “Because of the kissing.”

“Well,” PK says, and shrugs. “Incredibly, I can like to kiss people and be asexual at the same time, so.”

“No, no, I mean!” Carey’s floundering. “No. It’s cool. Me too. I just—I would have.” He clears his throat. “I’d have asked you out sooner, you know, if I’d. Uh. Known that.”

PK pauses, processes. Completely fails to process. “What?”

“I want to go on a date with you,” Carey says in a rush. “A lot of dates, probably. You’re really funny and cute and you do good things and I really like kissing you.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re adorable, I feel like you should have told me before now that you’re so goddamn cute,” PK says, wide-eyed. “Of course. Yeah. We should—definitely, yeah.”

“And I don’t mean to be presumptuous,” Carey says, sounding cautious now. “But, um, you know, I get off a little early tonight, and I could, you know, take you home.”

“Take me home,” PK echoes, grinning. “And what would we do at home?”

Carey looks flustered. “Do you want me to dirty talk you about kissing and snuggling?”

“So badly,” PK says. “I wanna hold your hand all night long, baby.”

He’s blushing, looks a little sheepish. PK kind of wants to never let him go. “You know, I’d—I’d really like that,” he says.

“You know what I have to do now, right?” PK says slowly.

“Oh no,” Carey says.

PK climbs up on a stool.

“Please don’t.”

He steps onto the bar from the stool, raises his hands in the air. “Everyone! I’d like to have your attention!”

“Get off my bar.”

“I’ve got a date! _Tonight!_ With this hot bartender!” PK proclaims, gesturing grandly down to Carey, who is _very_ bad at keeping the smile off his face. It’s a good look on him.

“What if I said please? Please get off my bar.”

“We’re going home together to make out!”

“The date is cancelled if you don’t get off my bar.”

“It’s gonna be so good! He finds me endearing! I can tell!”

“Please?”

“He secretly loves this because it gives him a view of my rockin’ bod!”

“You’re going to break it and fall and die if you don’t get off soon, and then you can’t meet my dogs.”

“He has _dogs_! He may be a perfect human male. Now, please carry on with your evenings!” PK bows, keeping his balance _wonderfully_ , and then hops down behind the bar with Carey.

“Is our entire relationship going to be like this?” he asks. “You’re making me seem very unprofessional right now.”

“I’m sorry I keep standing on your bar,” PK says, and leans in to kiss him.

(He’s not sorry at all.)

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://brandonsaaders.tumblr.com) for more hockey shenanigans!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] baby, we're the new romantics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10399263) by [frecklebombfic (frecklebomb)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklebomb/pseuds/frecklebombfic)




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